Mrs Niijima's Lover
by jtav
Summary: The battle against Yaldabaoth left Akira in a wheelchair. He and Sae are still happily married.


Akira glanced toward the surprisingly packed spectators gallery of the courtroom and allowed himself a small smile. Ten years after saving the world at the cost of his own body and two years after passing his legal internship and he was still the dancing bear of Special Investigations. The thief turned prosecutor who had lost the ability to walk overnight and didn't let that stop him from taking down tax cheats and fraudsters. He had always had a knack for battling impossible odds in pursuit of the right thing.

He forced himself to speak slowly. "Mr. Kizawa, in your professional opinion, are the bank transfers of the defendant irregular in any way?"

Murmurs from the gallery, "I'm surprised the judge can understand him. He sounds like he has marbles in his mouth."

Akira clutched the desk. The wheelchair was a pain sometimes, but it was the speech impediment that the battle had left him with that affected his life most from day to day. Three different professors had advised him to quit, and sometimes he wondered if scoring at the top of his class and acing the bar on his first try wasn't mostly spite.

The door opened, and Sae slipped quietly into the back, looking tired but pleased with herself. Akira's smile widened. It looked like his colleague in Arson was about to get his perfect record smashed to pieces. He continued questioning the witness and from the the judges were giving him, his own perfect record was likely to stay intact. Half an hour later, court was adjourned and Akira maneuvered himself through the throng. Tomorrow was Sunday. Maybe he and Sae to catch a movie and—

Something soft hit the side of his chair. An elderly man had collided with him. "Careful there!" Akira recognized him vaguely as an undersecretary in the Bureau of Labor and and the man who had made the comment about his voice.

"My apologies." _You bumped into me_. "I don't believe there was any harm done."

The man sniffed. "Yes, how fortunate for you."

Heels clattered on the floor as Sae approached. "Is everything okay?"

"It's fine. These things happen."

The man glared as his gaze shifted from Akira to Sae. "Niijima. Your illustrious husband needs to watch where he's going. He should be more grateful. In my day, he wouldn't have been allowed to sit for the bar."

Akira took a deep breath. It was something he had learned that day he was put on probation: never let them know they'd hurt you. "Ah, yes. The world changes more and more every day. Someday, we may even live up to the promise that we believe everyone is equal under the law and I'll have even more colleagues with a passionate devotion to justice. He smiled at Sae. "They can't all be crusading defense lawyers."

"What? Don't you dare ignore me! I play golf with your boss."

A muscle worked in Sae's cheek. "And he lives in our building. Your point? The last I checked, Akira had the third-highest clearance rate in the entire prosecutors office. Do you really think your being careless matters to anyone in the slightest?"

Other people were looking in their direction, and more whispers washed over Akira. "What's going on? Is that his wife? Must be. How do you think they… you know..."

The man heard them too, and there was a glint in his eye that Akira didn't like. "I forgot how passionate you two were. Your old boss used to talk about you Niijima. Said you insisted on having your own way. No wonder you married someone like him."

Rage washed over Akira as he went rigid. He could endure people insulting him, but insulting Sae always made him want to see how good his punches still were, law be damned. His head went back. "I'll be going now." He charged past him and congratulated himself for not deliberately running over his foot.

"So, how was your day?" Akira asked when they were alone in the elevator. He pushed himself back in his seat. Going rigid and losing control of his body when he got too excited was another symptom of condition. Takemi Syndrome the journals called it because they couldn't call it "What Happens When You Nervous System Gets Fried by a False God." Other symptoms included the speech impediment, gross and fine motor impairment, and the comments of every jerkass in Tokyo.

Sae laughed. "Before that? Pretty good. I might actually win this one. The prosecution's case is pretty flimsy. I never would have bought it to trial. I think somebody higher up must have pushed."

Akira perked up. The guys at the office might joke about him "sleeping with the enemy" but their professional lives rarely intersected since CEOs and Diet members had little love for the woman who made a point of seeking out the poor and marginalized. "Pushed in a way that might interest me?"

"You might want to look into it. You'd think we would have done more to rein in corruption by now."

"Almost enough to make me miss the old days. Stealing hearts and running for my life." He shook his head. "I take it back. I think I prefer being the very mundane Phantom Prosecutor. And I didn't have you back then, either."

"Flatterer," she said but without real rancor. "Just promise me no more attempts to sleep in your office. I don't want Takemi to kill me."

They stepped into the parking lot. "Wouldn't dream of it. This thing isn't nearly as comfortable as it looks." Akira kept his voice light, but Yaldabaoth's final curse rang in his ears: _I will take your body. I will take every scrap of happiness from you until you wish that I was victorious today_. The law was demanding. He was responding to treatment now, but there were no guarantees. And there were always side effects. Every court victory, every time he made love to Sae, they felt like cheating death all over again. "I'll be fine."

He walked through the front door and breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe it was silly to love an apartment so much, even if it was in Hiroo, but it was one of the two places in Tokyo where he felt like he belonged instead of like he was forcing himself into a hole that he no longer quite fit. The law books, the roll-in shower, Sae's motorcycle keys on the table: everything was a sign of the life the two of them had built together in defiance of false gods and jerks who thought they should be busy cleaning house or locked up somewhere.

He turned on his phone and tapped a few buttons with a stylus. "Huh. Message from Takemi." Hw tapped 'play.'

"Good news, guinea pig. I had to spend an hour on the phone with your insurance, but they agreed to cover the pump. You should get the formal letter in a few days, and then we can set it up"."

Akira exhaled and turned off the phone. "Wow." Nobody had known what to do with him ten years ago, but Takemi had thought that since his symptoms mimicked cerebral palsy so well, she might as well treat him like he had it. Convincing his insurance have been a little more challenging, but so far it seemed to be working, more or less. The little white pills he took four times a day brought his muscles under some semblance of control. The test injection into his spine had left him loose and relaxed for the first time since the battle. "It'd be nice not to seize up all the time." If he could handle the side effects.

"It would." Sae sat on the couch. "This is great. You deserve to have a little more control over your life."

"Yeah." He frowned. She was right. He knew that. Anything that helped him hold his head up properly and kept the spasms at bay—that let him be the prosecutor and husband that Tokyo and Sae deserved—was a good thing. And yet…the pills had given him nasty headaches for two straight months before he had adjusted. He'd done his research about what putting the stuff continuously and directly into his spinal fluid would do. The medical website had been clinical about the risk: statistically significant increase in the incidence of sexual dysfunction. Manageable. Most of the time. More research was needed

He tugged at his sleeve and leaned forward to remove his jacket. "Just nervous." He came as close to the couch as he could without taking Sae's legs out. Even ten years later, she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. The way her eyes shone bright red when she talked about getting a case dismissed, the way her hair came out tousled just so when she took off her helmet. And God help him, the way she stretched, lazy and content, after sex. He took her hand in his clumsy ones. "I love you, you know that right?"

"Of course I do. I love you too." Her brows knit together. "I thought Takemi said this was a routine procedure?"

"It is." He shrugged, feeling foolish and helpless. "I just…you heard the whispers earlier." Heat spread across his cheeks. "I like being married to you. I like having sex with you. And I always wonder if that's going to be the next thing to go."

Silence filled the apartment as Sae brushed his hair from his eyes. "Oh, Akira," she whispered. "I'm not going anywhere. For as long as you want me, you can have me."

"Well, then I guess we're stuck with each other." He tightened his grip. "I just don't want it to be some big heroic sacrifice for you. The martyr wife taking care of the crippled husband when she could be running off with the gamekeeper."

"Gamekeeper? Somebody's been watching too many Western costume dramas." Her smile was tight. "It's only a possible side effect, right? And there are pills." Spots of color appeared her cheeks. "Worst comes to worst, we have to get, er, creative?"

Creative. Right. Akira gave her a smile of his own He might be a straight-laced respectable prosecutor now, but he had been the Phantom with the daring and impossible plans first. "I was going to ask you to go to a movie, but why don't we see just how inventive the two smartest lawyers in Tokyo can get?"

"Well, I do think we deserve a reward…I've missed you lately."

He nodded his head by way of a bow. "Far be it from me to disappoint a lady. Lead on."

Akira followed close behind her until they reached the bedroom. He heaved himself over to sit on the edge of the bed and waited. Sae unbuttoned her jacket with maddening, methodical slowness. Akira stared at her long fingers and found his muscles tensing for reasons that had nothing to do with either illness or curse. Finally, she shrugged her blazer from her shoulders. "I suppose we could use toys," she said, her voice as casual as if she were talking about the weather. "They have ones with remotes, you know." She stood before him and ran a light, teasing finger down his chest. "You could drive me crazy. Right. From. Here."

Sometimes Akira wondered how he had ever thought her an ice queen. He pulled her down beside him, all anxiety for the future forgotten. She made quick work of his tie and shirt, and he pulled off her turtleneck. He balanced with one hand as he traced the muscles of her back and shoulder. Her eyes glittered with barely-suppressed hunger. This was his happy ending, and Yaldabaoth wasn't going to take it from him. Not now and not ever.

Sae all but ripped off her bra and eased him onto the bed. "There are probably any number of things we could do. They make all sorts of adaptive stuff these days." Her breathing was harsh as she removed both their pants and underwear.

"They do, but you know me. I like to do things for myself." An idea hit him. Something he had never done and knew mostly from Mishima giving him way too much information on his online viewing habits. But when had either of them cared about being respectable? "Would you—would you straddle me? My face?"

"Akira?"

"Easier for me to reach you." Sweat trickled down his face, and now he _felt_ like he had marbles in his mouth. "If you don't want to, we'll figure something else out."

"I didn't say that." Her face softened. "Let me know if I hurt you." And then she did as he had asked.

His world narrowed to a collection of sensations: his own shallow breathing, the salty taste of her, the clench of both their muscles. Her hand found his as she threaded their fingers together. The stone of her wedding band dug into his skin. Whatever Mishima or the world might say, there was nothing cheap or vulgar about this. Sae clenched around him and he worked her, and her breath came faster and faster. "Please," she whispered.

Desire and pride spiked through him. He was doing this, making Sae come apart and whimper. He had battled the most powerful man in the country and even a god, but nothing compared to that. Sae had just enough presence of mind to push off Akira before she smothered him, and her fingers twisted in his hair as she lost herself.

Sae curled against his chest, as Akira traced slow circles on her back. This was his favorite part, the warmth and safety of Sae cuddled to him. "Good?"

"You don't have to be so smug about it," she murmured sleepily and kissed him. "Someday, I'll have to figure out how I ended up with you. I think I hit the absolute jackpot."

"Funny, I could say the same thing about you." He fluffed her hair. "We are such saps."

"Or happily married. Take your pick. And I intend to go on being happily married no matter what happens next." She put a hand on his chest and smiled. "You've been so good to me, and I haven't had a chance to do anything for you. You know how I hate being in debt."

"I do." Akira smiled and shivered as Sae rolled onto him. Somehow everything was going to be all right. "Let's see what you come up with, Mrs. Niijima."

* * *

 _As stated, Akira's condition is heavily based on spastic cerebral palsy. The procedure he's having done is the implantation of a baclofen pump. Everything here is as medically accurate as I could make it, accounting for the fact that he has a magic-induced adult-onset version of CP._


End file.
